


Good Morning, Sunshine.

by DrunkSoup (Muqington)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Second Person, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, drowsy mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muqington/pseuds/DrunkSoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy birthday Bae!</p></blockquote>





	Good Morning, Sunshine.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baeofthechampion](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=baeofthechampion).



You had expected him to be a morning person. You had expected him up and moving before the sun even began to rise. It made sense, after all. After years of running and fighting and god knows what he did before he’d gotten away, it made perfect sense he’d wake up before the break of dawn and already be making breakfast while you snored away under the covers. But that was not the case with Fenris. In fact, his tendency to do the exact opposite of what you had expected drove you mad - In a good way, but mad nonetheless.

At first he was like that, sure. He woke up early, forcing himself out of your grasp as you grumbled and tried to beckon him back into bed with you, but times seemed to have changed. If it’s anyone who wakes up first now, it’s you, and it throws you the fuck off. You aren’t lazy and you never had been, but you did have the tendency to be a blanket hog until mid morning. But as a kid you were first to wake up. That’s what you get for being the oldest, right?

Either way, the fact that he crawls on top of you some time the night before and lays his head on your chest and just snores the morning away… When you’re blinking sleep from your eyes you can bare to move. Not when he’s just so… content. 

On more than one occasion you’ve woken him by mistake. You’ve bumped elbows to his nose, kicked him in places you’ve apologised numerous times for, and clunked skulls more times than you can count. It’s not your fault when you’re ready to climb out of bed that he isn’t. Some mornings you just want to make him breakfast to make sure he eats, and you don’t want him trailing with you to the kitchen. You make sure to apologise and tell him to go back to bed. It doesn’t always work.

But some mornings, once a year or two has passed since you two have settled together, he’s asleep like a brick on your chest, tucked up into your neck. These are the mornings where you can pick up a wrist and move his arm limply and he doesn’t so much as twitch an eyelid. The first time you figured these morning’s out, you had woken him with your terror that something might have been wrong. He’d shot up out of his drowsy slumber and nearly knocked over a vase, fearing that your cry was to signal something was wrong with you. It was all just a misfit of misfortune. You’d apologised again, wrapped your arms around him, and kissed at his skin to make up for it. 

You like to think you’ve figured his sleeping patterns out by now, though. Most mornings he’s a log that you can move and shove off yourself so he can grumble and yank the covers away from you. Other days he’s awake if you so much as breathe out of rhythm. You usually find out by telling him you love him. The first thing you do in the mornings. If he doesn’t respond, you can get out of bed. If he does. Well. He’s up after that, so why bother staying in bed? (Sometimes you do anyways. Pin your weight over him so he’s forced to stay. It usually ends with him calling you too heavy and snuggling with you anyways.)

This morning, however, you’ve lucked out. You whisper how much you love him, and his only response is a snore. You shift an arm to pull him closer and he grumbles, butting his head a bit against your jaw. You make an obligatory “oof” sound. He doesn’t seem to notice.

His hair most definitely gets in your mouth, and you smack yourself in the face trying to fix that. Wow. You are the most graceful Hawke to ever be born in this name. In the end you lay that hand on the top of his head to prevent any further hair to mouth situations, as well as skull to jaw. Sleepy Fenris can be very fatal, after all. But at least he’s cute, right?

Oh no, he’s not just cute. He’s downright adorable.

He grumbles a little again and you freeze, staring down at him like he’s going to yell at you at any minute for not doing laundry or something. All that really happens is that his hand rests on your chest and he moves a touch more on top of you. You think you can handle that. You rest a hand on his arm, beckoning him just the slightest bit closer. You turn your head to touch your nose to his forehead. You wonder what he’s dreaming about.

Your fingers slide through his hair, save for a few tangles you’re more than gentle to pull out. You’re so lucky to have him by your side, sleeping in the same bed as you. You love the way you can kiss his forehead and he just lays there using you as his pillow. He makes you feel warm. It’s a good feeling.

By the time he’s finally flickering open his eyes, you have his head tucked into the crook of your neck, fingertips just gently touching the sheets below your shoulder. You don’t know where his other arm landed in the tangle. You can only hope it’s not uncomfortable. He realizes you’re awake soon enough, though, probably because you aren’t snoring like a plump bear that’s just finished its last meal before winter. His head moves so he can look at you through hooded, lazy eyes, and you let your hand rest on his cheek.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

He blinks slowly, groaning about how he’s not even close to sunshine. You should have called him piss and vinegar. He might’ve liked that better. You lean your head up a little so you can kiss his forehead while he rubs at his eyes. You catch the smile on his lips. He can’t hide it from you.

He starts to shift, but you envelope him in both arms before he can get away. His hands grab onto your arms and you can just see that look of regret on his face when he realizes nope, you’ve got him in your hold now. He groans. You roll over and pin him down, pressing kisses to his face in an attempt to get him to smile. He gets an arm free and pushes at your face, but it’s back again. He’s got a brilliant smile. You’re sure to tell him that.

You end up half on top of him though, sharing kisses and loving cuddles, You won’t get out of bed for a while. At least, not until your stomach starts grumbling and the thought of scrambled eggs makes you hoist yourself out of bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Bae!


End file.
